Jeux du Coeur
by Naria Lacour de Fanel
Summary: He's watched this game play on long enough, now he will take control of the pieces. Undertaker/Grell/William
1. Observations

Title: Jeux du Coeur

Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel

Pairings: Shinigami sammich

Rating: Eventually M

Warnings: MANSECKS! Fluff, a bit of OOC-ness to go with my neurotic dialogue.

A/N: My first non oneshot in a while, eh? I don't think I've ever written a multi-parter for Kuroshitsuji...This is obviously heavily based on the anime, not the awesomeness that is the manga. The only good thing to come out of the anime filler was Undertaker's identity...and Drocell.

Chapter 1: Observations

In which Undertaker forms a plan.

* * *

I have gotten into the practice of watching the capricious reaper's daily activities, and today is no exception. I am in the market for amusement, but the exploits of Grell Sutcliff also inspire within me a modicum of pity for someone as pathetic as he. He is lovely, to be sure, and were it not for that mouth of his, I'm sure his pursuits in romance would actually yield results. But, no, time and again I watch as he lets out a horrifically inappropriate girlish squeal of delight when the current object of his desire comes into view. Which, in turn, forces his quarry to take the only viable option: self preservation. Ergo fight has won over flight and they are in for a fray.

I can't stop the grin that forms as I watch the battle play out. Grell, as per usual, shows an astounding amount of overconfidence as he swings his scythe erratically. Obviously he has forsaken his training as he swings in a fashion entirely unlike what proper protocol suggests. This is how he gets himself into trouble.

And he knows it.

He knows that if he were to concentrate and seriously try to destroy the prey before him, he would be victorious. He would not be a harvester of souls otherwise. By Charon's Oar, I would never normally allow such a careless soldier in my ranks. He is capable and, more often than not, reliable.

But Grell likes to play.

He likes to parody the elation of being alive by antagonizing dangerous things, and he is stupidly good at getting himself into trouble. Grell also knows that if he doesn't play, then he will not get _his_ attention.

Yes, all of this is a ploy. The devious redhead creates these scenarios in order to fall into a situation where he will inevitably need rescuing. There is but one man in the organization who would go out of his way to ensure the safety of a co-worker, if for nothing more than to reduce the costs of workman's comp…

Grell's eyes shine bright for a moment as he perks up. His action is so subtle that unless you knew what to look for, it would go unnoticed. He "accidentally" slips into harm's way, inviting his opponent to deal devastating blows to his seemingly fragile frame. He shrieks in pain as scarlet rivulets blossom across his bruised face. He makes a show of taking the hits, screeching and whining the entire time before the enemy takes action to end the battle permanently. I find myself pondering if the pain is really worth the goal. I really don't understand this attraction, but the sound of Grell's breath catching in his throat makes me look to him. I see the ghost of a smile on his split lips. His pain filled eyes soften for but a moment as he turns them skyward, to the rooftops. I follow his sight and there is William T. Spears, silhouetted against the moon, his scythe by his side, and the classic look of complete disinterest on his face.

"William! Help me!" Grell yelps, reverting back to the flamboyant ball of energy. He isn't in real danger. He could very well rescue himself, but we know that isn't the point here. Grell has gotten what he wants.

"I should just leave you there," William coldly replies, adjusting his glasses. Grell shrieks and pouts again, but we all know he won't be abandoned. And William doesn't disappoint. He makes quick work of preventing Grell's demise, excusing their behavior, and dragging Grell off to the office where he will chastise him thoroughly.

I have seen this particular play between these two time and again, and I know how it will end. Grell will not tell William his feelings, however convenient it might be. He will not tell William that the people he leaps after in flamboyant affection mean nothing to him, and that his fickle nature is but a way to keep his mind off a particular unrequited love. He will not tell dear William that these games they play wear on his soft and fragile heart, nor that he longs to be looked upon with tenderness, not disdain or annoyance. He wants to tell William, plain and simple, that he loves him. But, instead, the game will continue and Grell will keep up the annoyingly loud façade to banter back and forth. The game gives him opportunity to be near William, and that is enough. But I can see the tears he refuses to shed.

William will continue to deny the affection he feels for the fiery reaper, somewhat by choice, though mostly through ignorance. Persephone's tears, I know that affection is there! I see it in the way that he comes to Grell's rescue, despite the fact that he is normally on assignment elsewhere. I see it in the way he spoils the boy by finding bureaucratic loopholes to give him lighter punishments. I can see the way his body minutely relaxes around the red maned beauty…William wants Grell, but will never do anything that might compromise his work. Mr. Spears is a stiff, cold, well oiled machine of a reaper. But there is one thing in the world that can fracture that aloof facade, when even _I_ can never get a rise out of him, and that is the irritating Grell Sutcliff. Whether or not he entirely understands why this is the case, I fully intend to use that against him. Knowledge of all things is my main weapon.

I am quite adept at manipulating others to bring my plans to fruition. I believe I will use the Phantomhive boy and his butler.

It's time for me to enter the game.

* * *

Chapter 1 folks...

Interesting fact about the author:

Undertaker/Grell was fanon for me before it became canon.

I love the idea of the shinigami having their own jargon, i.e. their own versions of "goodness" or "my god!". Expletives? Of course they are Death/Underworld based. Hence "By Charon's Oar!" and "Persephone's tears!" I was considering "Anubis' squeaky bone!" but that was just silly! LOL


	2. Canvassing

Jeux du Coeur

Chapter 2: Canvassing

In which Undertaker imposes himself in the lives of his targets.

* * *

I see him standing on the street corner down from my shop looking miserable and dowdy in his ebony haired form. London rains assault him and his coat obviously does not keep away the cold or wetness. I merrily and stealthily approach him from behind, umbrella held out to gallantly defend him from the vicious rain.

"Whatever is the matter, Grell?"

He looks at me with fearful eyes, his surprise obvious. But the shy mousy façade instantly melts away once he recognizes me.

"You mean other than being soaked to the bone?" he quips with a sneer and a shiver.

"Of course!" I answer with a smile. "I saw you standing here in the rain looking rather wretched, so I came to be gentlemanly."

"Well, thank you." he responds looking askance. We stand in silence for a few moments, when I finally decide to break the hush.

"You seem to be rather undecided about what it is you're doing here. You act as if it's nothing, but I have a feeling that it has something to do with your mistre-"

"Don't assume things you know nothing about," he sniffs disdainfully, eyes barely hiding his anger. Apparently I have touched a nerve. I win.

"I would never assume," I smirk. "I do know _you_, Grell Sutcliffe. Quite well, in fact. I know that _you_ know I was the one to receive and prepare the former Baroness Burnette's body after her demise. I know that _you_ know that her possessions are still in my care. You're here because you want the lovely boots she wore the night you killed her."

"Lovely boots…" Grell murmured with a longing expression. "I mean- No! That's not why I'm here! And it wasn't me!" he hastily added, catching his near slip-up.

"Yes it is, and yes it was," I answer, knowing full well that I am correct. I press in closer, backing him into the wall behind us, giving him my best intimidating glare. The fight seems to leave him once I start to speak.

"But you can't act on your desire because you're torn," I croon darkly. "As much as you deny it, your mistress was the rare faux paramour you actually cared for. It wasn't out of disgust that you ended her. It was pity. You can't deny that you couldn't stand to have seen her fallen so far into despair…"

He gives me a surprised and wounded look, as if I am telling him things I should not know. Poor naive boy.

"You are ambivalent because you want to deny any feeling you had for her…," I continue. "…and yet you wish not to betray her memory."

His eyes widen with obvious pain and shock. "H-how did- could you-? No one-"

I step closer.

"I know _everything_ about you," I say reassuringly, attempting to show a semblance of understanding. His pained expression doesn't go away, and I watch as he bites his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

"Angelina…" he whispers sadly as a single tear escapes. Hmm. Maybe I pushed a little _too_ far…This will not do. I must break him out of his melancholy. I lean in close and brush a stray lock of hair over his ear.

"I also know your flesh hasn't known the warmth of another's in some time," I purr with an exaggerated leer. "Perhaps I could provide you with some comfort?"

I hear his breath catch in his throat as he snaps, expectedly taking the opportunity to ignore his own pain and latch onto something else.

"I beg your pardon," he huffs indignantly as he skirts around me, the trance of depression broken for the time being in order to defend his dignity. "That is none of your concern and, no, you don't know me! Good day!"

He leaves the sanctuary of the umbrella and angrily tromps off down the street.

"But the boots…" I call after him.

"I have nothing more to say to the likes of you!" he grits out as he clutches his arms about himself and shivers in the rain.

"I'd be glad to warm you up!" I call after him merrily.

"I _said _good day!" he snarls back with a glare.

But, there were no more tears. And he knows now that I am watching him. I'd say I've done a fine job.

* * *

"You come to seek my counsel, and yet you refuse to take my advice seriously," I tsk, straightening various jars and canisters on my work table. "For being dedicated to such a people oriented job, you seem to be lacking in basic social skills."

"I don't mean to offend, sir. I am of the opinion that 'Get tupped' is not appropriate advice."

"Appropriate or not, it's what you need, William," I smirk knowingly. He had come into my shop looking for advice on how to improve his performance as a reaper. He wanted tips and strategies for the most efficient methods of harvesting souls. I, of course, refuse to share such boring guidance, and instead opted to give him advice of a more personal nature. I see a slight blush on his cheeks as he refuses to look at me directly. I mince towards him ominously and tap his cheek.

"Would it be inappropriate for me to offer my own services in this area?"

He sputters and blushes beautifully, as if my offer is wholly inconceivable. I quickly and happily invade his personal space. He freezes as he feels my breath upon his ear.

"I am no longer your superior, but I am of the opinion that dominating you would be good fun," I growl, gliding my fingers over his cheek to lightly dig my nails into the flesh of his jaw. As I can feel him tense up as he avoids my gaze, I know he is on the verge of running. Not if I can help it. The time is ripe to fluster him further, in a more positive direction. "Or is there someone else?"

As soon as the words process in his mind he visibly rips himself from his daze and turns to face me aggressively. They are so alike, the silly fools.

"Of course there isn't!" he snaps. "I have no time for such things!"

"It would do you some good," I chide as I step away with a shrug.

I watch as he composes himself once more, pointedly ignoring my suggestion. "Thank you for your time," he crisply says before attempting to excuse himself.

"Maybe I shall find someone for you?" I offer politely. "Perhaps you like gingers?" He flinches, but quickly gains his composure again.

"Thank you, but no," He shakes his head. "I am in need of a more professional sort of guidance."

"I'm sure there are plenty of souls to be harvested in Soho," I grin. "You could seek professional help there."

I see his eyebrow twitch. I only continue to smile genially.

William gives me an exasperated sigh, says good day once more and walks out the door.

Well, that went splendidly. Poor William. He doesn't stand a chance against me.

* * *

Facts/notes about this chapter:

I see Undertaker as his retired self, but he is still on retainer with the bureau (because immortal retirement is BORING). So, it's likely that many aspiring badass reapers seek his advice once they find him. Also, Soho was a superbly raunchy "entertainment" district at the time of the series, not quite like it is today.

"To tup" = to fuck. Indeed.


	3. First Move

Title: Jeux du Coeur  
Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel  
Pairings: Shinigami sammich  
Rating: Eventually M  
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI, NOR IT'S CHARACTERS, NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY WRITING THIS!

Chapter 3: First Move

In which pieces begin to fall into place.

* * *

Of course, young Phantomhive does not disappoint me. He exudes mystery and drama and is therefore commonly in the midst of turmoil. Grell can never resist such crisis. I knew he would inevitably be pulled towards the boy again. The presence of demon has helped, as Grell is hopelessly attracted to him, but that will be resolved soon enough. That fleeting emotion is merely lust and not true affection. Lust is _easy_ to overcome.

I simply needed to make sure to be at the right place at the right time. It just so happened I had to return some books that day. Kismet, as her typical contrary self, makes it so that it is William who fixes Grell's silly crush on Sebastian. He reveals my true identity to the dense ginger out of alarm at the young one's ignorance, though his impatience makes it quite clear that he still resents me for the advice I had given him. Oh well.

The redhaired beauty is absolutely taken with me, though he only sees what I used to be. It is as if our past encounters never occurred. To him, I am a whole new beau he has never seen before and must seek to impress. It is fine. So long as I can provide what truly he needs, I will not argue.

I look to William as Grell clings to me tenaciously. His emotionless expression does not change, but I notice the nearly non-existent hardening of his eyes. During the ensuing battle with the angel,

I know for a fact that I have had an effect on the cold reaper. He relents and shares with Grell the use of his scythe. Like a jealous child! How amusing! Even so, this is exactly according to plan.

After all the folderol is over with and we return to the shop, the Earl has leaves with his demon once we finish our little chat. William, after taking back his scythe and cleaning it off on Grell's coat, reluctantly departs to fill out his overtime and holiday leave forms.

The redhead and I are completely alone.

He still fawns over me ridiculously. It does make me smile, but I am positive I know his true intentions. I can see the minute tightness to his spine, a slight quiver around his eyes. He is attracted to me, yes, but he is also terribly scared. He is so used to being rejected that he hides behind this foolish mask, doing what he thinks will secure my interest. As he bustles around gathering the still full beakers of tea, chattering away, I see him tilt slightly off balance. And like the knight in shining armor he wants, I go to his rescue. I catch his delicate frame nonchalantly and he uses the opportunity to drape his arms around my neck and bring our faces close.

"Oh! My heeero," he titters girlishly. I dismiss his simpering behavior and let him to do as he

wants. He flutters his eyelashes and croons more, making it all the more obvious that his façade is taking over. "However shall I repay you for saaaving me?"

I simply hold still. I know this game. He is subjugating (see whoring) himself in order to gain my attentions, though in his heart he does not truly want this. And I am not so callous as to take advantage of a fragile heart, no matter how readily it is presented to me. I know that he truthfully desires romance, but is wholly unaccustomed to being treated well. Who am I to deny him something so easily given? Deserved even?

He seems to hesitate at my inaction before pressing closer. His breath brushes my lips teasingly as he leans in closer still. I smoothly take one of his hands from my neck and bring it to my lips, blocking his premature kiss. He gives me a look of confusion with a trace of hurt. I gently kiss his hand once more before letting it go to stroke the side of his frowning face, hoping to soothe his sulkiness.

"A creature as magnificent as yourself should not have to beg for affection, my lady," I murmur as I gently cup his cheek. "Do not feel you must cheapen yourself by offering what you are not yet ready to give."

"Are you implying that I'm a loose woman?" he suddenly shrieks, throwing my hand off and stepping away. I succeed in suppressing my smile as I watch his eyes go from scared, to offended, to outright furious in a matter of seconds. It is his passionate capricious nature that I have admired in him all this time, and he never ceases to act on it. His anger radiates from him almost dangerously, and I can't help but be amused by it.

"No, Grell," I say softly as I step in close again. He tenses but holds his ground, challenging me and my supposed accusation. I place both of my hands gently on either side of his delicate face, and look him directly in the eyes. His intense gaze does not waver and his obstinacy brings an honest smile to my lips.

"I am saying that the fool lovers of your past did not know how to properly treat such a beautiful gift," I murmur. "You are deserving of so much more than what you are used to," I finish by placing a soft kiss on his forehead and returning to gauge his reaction, confident that I have placated him. Confident that I am succeeding in wooing him.

Grell is silent. His eyes bright with anger just moments ago suddenly melt with an emotion I've never seen in them. They mist over as he looks down and stubbornly bites his lip. It causes me to question my approach as this reaction was _not_ expected. I wonder what I have said this time to bring tears to his eyes. I know it is genuine emotion, not crocodile tears. It was certainly not joy I saw in his pain-filled eyes. I saw sadness...and something terribly elusive. He keeps his eyes cast down and I know I have done something wrong. I am honestly confounded as to how to make amends.

I drop my hands and make to step back, knowing humor would be unbearably tasteless in this case.

"Apologies, milady, that was presump-"

But I am cut off by Grell suddenly taking up one of my hands and kissing my palm with fervor. I frown when I see a few tears escape, disappointed that my plan seems to have not only failed but it seems to have failed so spectacularly that it has broken the poor boy.

But then he looks up at me.

On his lovely face is a heart-wrenchingly beatific smile. The first real smile I have ever seen him give… And I suddenly know what that emotion is I still see brimming in his emerald orbs. I have seen it time and again in souls I have freed from a long and agonizing existence. But I have never seen it in him. The emotion he shows so plainly and so painfully is _gratitude_.

Against my will, a curious sensation stirs in my dormant heart as I see such a strong, yet tragic emotion come from him. From someone who should never have to feel so grateful for a morsel of true affection. I am awed by the sight. I thought he was lovely before, but this raw, real side of him is ten times more beautiful and I find myself hoping that I can be the reason behind it's appearance more and more...

…but...

…being the reason behind his smile isn't part of the plan...

Distracted by my racing mind, I am rapidly pulled back to reality when Grell flings himself at me, knocking us both to the floor. I have no time to stop him or protest as he smothers my mouth with his, and at this point I really can't find a good reason to fight it. Nor do I want to. He has shown me the Grell I never knew I wanted to see, and that is enough for now. I let him straddle me and kiss me as he is wont, and I must say I am deprived of oxygen for quite the while. But when he starts viciously tearing at my robes, I grasp his dainty wrists to gain his attention. He looks down on me, chest heaving, face flushed, as if _he _were the one being ravished.

"Don't you think we're moving a bit too quickly, my dear?" I pant, my voice a deep lusty rumble. Oh, my. I thought I had better control than that.

"The more you talk like that, the more I want to knock you straight through the floor," he growls back bluntly, nipping at my exposed neck. I find it hard to think straight as that warm slick tongue of his wends it's way up to my ear.

"You're the one who knows me so well," he purrs sweetly, and I smirk knowing he hasn't forgotten our first meetings. "You know I want this. I know _you_ want this," he whispers as he grinds his hips into mine. I can't help but make a pleased sound and he giggles as I release his wrists.

"If milady insists..."

"I more than insist. I _demand_!"

And as that desirous command sends a delicious shiver down my spine, I can only think:

William, you are a fool.

* * *

If you hadn't figured it out, Grell meant "knock" in the fucking sense, not the punching sense. Yay slang!

Interesting fact about this fic:

Whenever I ran into a mental block in writing this, I went to my husband for help. He is surprisingly good at writing bromance.


	4. Anxious

Jeux du Coeur

Chapter 4: Anxious

In which certain characters become agitated.

* * *

I must say that I am impressed by Grell's change in behavior over the past few months, but I must also say that I am not entirely pleased. His personality has changed very little, but he has gained the ability to reign himself in once we are out of the office. Granted, the fact that he actually carries out his assignments in a timely and proper manner is acceptable, but he _should_ have been like this all along. I can't comprehend how he was even selected as a reaper in the first place. His reckless tactics and erroneous side trips have miraculously ceased. It's obvious he wants to finish his work as quickly as possible to be elsewhere. Of course he still refuses to follow proper dress code, but his harvests are pulled off flawlessly and his paperwork is impeccable. He knows that should he make a mistake, I would not stand for it. So, somehow, Grell has become amazingly efficient. The irritating fact is that it is not proper guidance and chastising that has disciplined him so well. No. He did not take the mandatory route the rest of us have with decades of hard work and study. Somehow Grell has come into his own through, dare I say it, emotional means. Ever since he became intimate with…

Even admitting I notice this sentimentality is incommodious. Not to mention completely ridiculous.

All this thinking is a nuisance. No. _Grell_ is a nuisance. His mere presence sets off an unwelcome reaction. I nearly cannot abide to hear him speak. I would say that I am angry, but it has been proven I am impervious to such a base emotion. Anger cannot control me, nor do I have a logical reason to be angry…

But my thoughts are interrupted by the flamboyant reaper inviting himself into my office, as is his usual custom. Previously his visits would consist of him begging for me to proofread and correct his terrible reports, but as of late, it has only been to idle away the last hour or so of work…milking the clock in a wasteful manner. I grit my teeth.

He saunters into my office with his usual devil-may-care attitude, reports ready to turn in once it is time to clock out, and a stream of the same babbling nonsense I'm used to hearing flows from his mouth. He makes himself right at home in the chair beside my desk. There hadn't always been a chair there. I put it there to keep him from sitting on top of my paperwork, and made the mistake of allowing him permission to stay in the office so long as he sat _in_ said chair. It's probably the only rule I've set forth that he _hasn't_ ignored. In turn, I ignore him as I catch up on my own paperwork, feeling the beginnings of frustration at my own inefficiency.

Grell, of course, busies himself with rifling through the drawers, stealing all of my red ink, and painting his nails with my white-out. And his chattering never ceases. But it is no longer him begging for advice or lenience in his work, it's just typical annoying Grell chatter. As if I am no longer capable of giving him the advice he avidly sought before…

I frown as I watch him straighten out a paper clip to scratch tiny skulls designs into his now white lacquered nails…He can be quite industrious when he wants to be. So why wasn't he before? Were all of my lectures a waste of time if all it took was…

Why won't he stop talking?

I find myself staring at him (glaring, really) as I watch him waste more office supplies making origami flowers and cranes. He babbles on and on, ceaselessly folding and fidgeting. His day's work is complete, and yet he sits here playing games distracting me from my own work so shamelessly. If he doesn't need my help anymore, then why is he still here?

_And why won't he stop talking?_

The next thing I know he's right in my face, eyes wide and tense. The only reason I am able to stop from scowling is the fact that he has finally stopped talking. I let go of a small sigh of relief and quickly realize that it's not my breath alone I feel brush my lips. There is a warm softness against my mouth…almost pleasant…

His eyes begin to drift father away, brimming with confusion and fear, and he takes that pliant warmth with him. I blink in confusion myself.

What just happened? What did I-

Oh no.

He stands up and backs away, keeping his eyes trained on me as if I am a threat, which makes me feel rather inexperienced and, consequently, embarrassed. Decades of self control can't stop my skin from flushing as I realize the gravity and implications of my subconscious action to shut Grell up.

Oh **_no_**.

"I…think you're confused." is all he says before walking out of my office. As I hear the click of the door shutting, I have the great urge to indulge in what the academy freshmen call: headdesk.

I indulge.

Repeatedly.

Maybe it will knock some of the stupidity out of my brain.

A half hour and a blessed headache later, I have come to realize that my rash action was the convoluted result of a temporary fit of madness. I was simply confused and, dare I admit it, frustrated at Grell's sudden turn around in performance. With his obvious lack of enthusiasm and abhorrent disobedience in his initial training, who could possibly fault my confusion?

One just cannot improve so greatly in such a short amount of time without assistance. His chosen partner evidently has much to do with this great transformation. Grell is obviously receiving guidance, and that is grossly biased considering other juniors have asked for such valuable advice and been denied.

That must be remedied.

* * *

A/N:

I think William is still very confused, don't you?

About this chapter:

I see the shinigami as being modern and bureaucratic to the max. So, yes, they have all modern office supplies (paper clips, white-out, post-its…), but use fountain pens and/or quills, and maybe typewriters. And probably some wonderfully archaic clockwork copy machine made of brass and gears that gets wound by zombie minions named Mr. Snugglepuff and Nommy McNommerson. *sigh*

And, yes, I adore the idea of a shinigami academy. Bite me.


	5. Cornering

Title: Jeux du Coeur  
Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel  
Pairings: Shinigami sammich  
Rating: Eventually M  
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI, NOR IT'S CHARACTERS, NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY WRITING THIS!

Chapter 5: Cornering

In which William is pinned down.

* * *

William did not spare any time on formality as his addled brain left little room for forethought. He briskly walked into the shop, checked to see that it was empty save for it's owner, and directly confronted a rather surprised Undertaker.

"I know of your relationship with Sutcliff," William blurted out!

That _wasn't _what he had meant to say…William froze, concerned by his own uncharacteristic behavior.

Undertaker blinked owlishly as he processed William's words. The look of surprise and confusion on the reaper's face was priceless. In all his years, he had never seen William act so…uncollected. It was sudden, pleasantly unexpected, and above all else _hilarious_. The madman just couldn't hold in the barks of laughter that spilt forth.

The laughter sobered the suddenly embarrassed reaper and helped him to remember his purpose in coming here. He chalked his outburst up to yet another lingering effect of his frustration towards Grell, which, ideally, would be resolved soon. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and tried again.

"While you are a retired member of the force, you are still on retainer and are expected to act with some sense of professional decorum," William said coolly. "Personal matters are just that, and should not interfere with one's work. But I can't stand idly by while you flagrantly display favoritism by sharing your knowledge with Grell Sutcliff and not other bureau members. The inexplicable improvement of his work performance is concurrent with his personal relationship with you. Therefore it stands to reason that you must be instructing him while turning away others, the very definition of favoritism." William concluded, confident that this irritating issue would be resolved once the elder agreed with his flawless logic. Had Undertaker any pride as a former reaper, then he would see the error of his ways, stop sharing trade secrets with Grell, and things would return to normal.

Undertaker chuckled as he wiped away a tear. William merely stared at him expectedly, having calmed down enough to block out what had transpired in the office...

"Favoritism? Persephone's tears, man! How can I be accused of such when all he did was act on the same advice you had ignored?" Undertaker pointed out, stifling yet another laugh. William's eyebrow twitched involuntarily.

"Overlooking certain implications, I doubt following _that _particular bit of advice has had such a profound effect on his performance," William answered with a doubting frown.

"Tut, tut, William. Do you really have such little faith in my lady's abilities? That Grell can only be efficient as a reaper under my direct guidance?" the mortician asked nonchalantly, putting various tools away. He glanced over his shoulder at the strangely tense reaper and gave him a winning smile. "If that is indeed the case, then you are sorely mistaken."

"But the change in his behavior is too drastic to attribute to emotional or physical satisfaction!" William spat.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I refuse to believe that. There is obviously more to this miraculous change of his."

"That's your problem right there, dear William. It is not a matter of not believing. It is a matter of not _seeing_. You do not want to see it."

"I am not ignorant, if that is what you're implying."

Undertaker shook his head sadly.

"Let us get to the actual root of the problem, shall we?" the silver haired ex-reaper offered cheerfully, walking around William concentrically. "This isn't a matter of crying inequity and stopping favoritism. Plain and simple, you like the boy and are afraid to admit it."

"That's not why-"

William was silenced by Undertaker raising his hand.

"Think about it, William. Think about _him_. That fiery little redhead is the only one to make the blood boil in that icy heart of yours. Don't think the little things you do for him escape my notice," Undertaker chided with a wag of his finger. "I've watched you as you hide your breathlessness whenever the need arose to dash to his rescue. Not to mention I _wrote _all the rules and regulations that you've bent for him repeatedly. Good show on that, by the way. You're the only one to have ever found the loopholes I so carefully provided. And I know it's not because of your genius, it's because of the years you've spent pouring over those musty tomes…to help someone in particular, no doubt. Taking these things into consideration just _who_ is guilty of playing favorites here?"

William's face flushed an elegant shade of red. "It's not -_I'm_ not-! He-!"

"Coherent sentences, man!" Undertaker encouraged, continuing to stroll his tightening circle. William cleared his throat and composed himself.

"I do not see how assisting a grossly incompetent colleague is biased. I am aiding him."

"And no one else?"

"No one else needs my aid."

"So you say, " Undertaker sighed wistfully. "Again, dear William, it is a matter of not seeing. No matter how many times I assure you that I am treating milady strictly as a lover, you will not believe me."

"Of course not! It's ridiculous to think that mere physical gratification could-"

"On what grounds do you make that assumption?" Undertaker interjected, suddenly very close to William.. "Have you experience? Solid proof? Perhaps I should give you a practical demonstration?"

But before William could answer, he felt his former superior's bony hand clench his shoulder as he was suddenly pulled into an iron embrace and a soft cloth was forced tightly over his nose and mouth.

"Does this smell like chloroform to you?" he heard Undertaker chuckle into his ear viciously as the world began to fade to black.

The very last sounds he heard were Undertaker's rich laughter and the ominous clinking of chains.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know it's unlikely that chloroform would work that quickly (if at all on a shinigami), but as YGOTAS Bakura says: "I don't care!" Maybe Taker knows the Vulcan nerve pinch! O_O

Random story:

While writing this, I heard Escape (The Piña Colada Song) on the radio and immediately thought of an _incredibly_ drunk William singing it at karaoke with Grell and Taker. But, he has very different lyrics. Enjoy his rendition complete with choreography.

"Yesh I like Penis Coladas! *hip thrust hip thrust* Gettin' tied up with chains! *gyrate and booty shake* I'm not into the ball gag, cos' then you can't scream mah name! *going into epic rock ballad pose* Yesh I like fuckin' hard all through the night, on the couch or your face. *exaggerated wink at Grell* I'ma shinigami sex god! Take off your pants, time for rape! *bow and faceplant*"

Why? Because drunk!William would be a crude perverted asshole. That's why.


	6. Practicality

Title: Jeux du Coeur  
Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel  
Pairings: Shinigami sammich  
Rating: NC-17  
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI, NOR IT'S CHARACTERS, NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY WRITING THIS!

GRAPHIC MANSEX AHOY! If you're under 18...Go. Away. There! I said it! Leave me alone, porn nazis!

Chapter 6: Practicality

In which there is Boom Boom Sexy Time.

_**

* * *

**_

"Daaaaarling! Grell shouted breathlessly as he ran into the shop. "Dearest, where are you?"

He had sprinted the entire way from the office exit point in the heart of London to the mortuary. He was quite anxious to get home and share his incredibly odd day with his lover.

"In here," Undertaker melodiously called from the bedroom.

Grell immediately ran down the corridor and burst through the door.

"You'll never guess what happened today! William, he…" Grell's words trailed off at the sight before him.

"Yes, milady?" Undertaker asked politely, though he was obviously occupied. The redhead only blinked.

"_Why_ is there a naked man chained to our bed?"

And indeed there was. On their great wrought iron canopy bed knelt a sweat slicked man. His manacled wrists hung limply above his head, chains pulling his arms towards the bedposts. His ankles were shackled to a spreader bar that had an attached chain running through the rails at the foot of the bed. The man had his back to him, but Undertaker knelt at his side, one hand out of sight, the other had been in the process of scratching it's way down the captive's back. Grell was too flustered to take much more notice.

"_Why_ shouldn't there be?" the ex-reaper asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Grell narrowed his eyes at the question. It was **not** silly to think this strange. Undertaker sometimes brought other people home to "play" with. Though it normally involved them shackled to a wall or a table! The nudity really didn't surprise him, but the mortician never went into this kind of play with anyone else, especially _not on their bed!_

"What are you _doing_ to him?" Grell nearly hissed, stirrings of jealousy rising to the surface.

"Giving him a practical demonstration."

"Well, stop it!" the redhead huffed, decidedly annoyed.

"Why? Things were just getting interesting," Undertaker leered as he leaned in close to his captive, his unseen hand moving in a clearly rhythmic and unwholesome way. "Isn't that right, Mr. Spears?"

The captive let out a desperate moan and shuddered violently. Undertaker's grin grew as he watched the jealousy in Grell's eyes instantaneously be replaced with shock and surprise.

"That's William!" the redhead shrieked. "For the love of Styx, let him go!"

"Again, I ask, why?"

"He's not right in the head, is _why!_ He went insane and kissed me out of the blue! I think the origami cranes broke him," Grell babbled desperately as he rushed forward. Without a second thought, he pushed his lover out of the way, dumping him on the floor consequently, and knelt in front of William as he pulled a bobby pin from his hair.

"Don't worry, I'll have you out soon! I've had to learn how to pick these," he murmured in an assuring manner to William as he set upon the locks.

From his new position on the floor, Undertaker smiled happily, delighted that his little minx never ceased to surprise him. He'd expected anger or tears again, but, no, he had gotten assertive Grell. He very much _liked_ assertive Grell. He was always so much fun...

"We've been at this for hours," Undertaker gloated with grin. "And I haven't allowed him release even once."

"Oh, you beast," Grell chided, but his scolding lacked real bite. The mortician merely smirked again, watching as the scarlet reaper quickly freed Will of the manacles.

As soon as his hands were released, William collapsed forward onto Grell with a groan. Grell readily took the limp body into his arms, but was truly concerned when William didn't protest. Undertaker had to really have done a number on him for him to be so compliant! The redhead tried to push William up into a sitting position, but he just slumped forward again. Either he was exhausted, or he was ill.

"William, you need to sit up," Grell coaxed, but the ebon haired one would not move.

"William," Grell tried again, adding a gentle shake. "Get a hold of yourself!"

As if a switch were thrown, William suddenly sat up and forcefully crushed his lips to Grell's. The redhead blinked and squeaked in surprise, but instantly pulled away.

"N-no William," he softly admonished as he gently shoved his friend off of him. Sure, it was odd, but it made some strange sense since the last Grell had seen of him he had been expressing his **obvious** insanity this same way. Undertaker must have only made it worse. "We need to get your cloth-"

But he was interrupted once again by William clumsily kissing him.

"Will! No!" Grell gasped as he broke the kiss once again. Ignoring the strange growl that came from William's throat, the redhead pushed his friend up into a sitting position once more and grabbed his face, hoping to force him to focus. William only blinked blearily at him, obviously confused, before slumping forward onto the redhead's shoulder once more. William T. Spears was very far and away.

"Did you drug him?" Grell growled to the man on the floor.

"Sedated is the term you're looking for," Undertaker offered happily. "Though it should have worn off hours ago. I do believe it's the lack of blood to his poor oxygen deprived brain that is causing this _special_ behavior."

"Well, you broke him! _You_ fix him!" Grell snarled as he tried to juggle William's limp body to reach around and unlock the leg restraints.

Undertaker merely chuckled. "Why don't you help me?"

"No!" Grell snorted as he finally released William's legs from the spreader bar. He winced as he heard Will's knees creak and pop as he helped him to stretch out his legs.

"Why not? Normally you'd gracefully accept such a delicious gift."

"Why not? Because it's William!" Grell nearly shrieked. "He's not some toy, and he wouldn't be in this state were it not for you! I'm not going to make it worse by getting involved. Before you even ask why that is, let's not ignore the _obvious_ fact that he doesn't like me!"

"Yes, he does," Undertaker's voice purred directly into Grell's ear. The redhead stiffened as he realized his lover was no longer a heap on the floor, but pressed closely against him from behind. Grell tried to turn around to give Undertaker a piece of his mind, but a strong grip on the base of his skull and the solid body against his back kept him facing forward...facing William. The redhead frowned.

"No, he doesn't. He's just addled because of some insane doings of yours," Grell seethed. "Lunacy does not equate attraction."

As he spoke, William's face filled his vision. The groggy reaper's eyes cleared temporarily as he seemed to be thinking something…contemplating something complex, but Grell was entirely unsure of what it could be. But that could wait as that wasn't the immediate problem. Presently, he dearly wanted to get William out of there before there was permanent mental damage. But he knew better than anyone else that the only way to overcome one of Undertaker's "torture" sessions was to be granted release by the silver maned madman himself. To try anything else would be futile. Of course, Grell didn't like the idea of his lover being with another man, especially with a man he himself couldn't have…but if it would return William to normal, then it had to be done! Damn Undertaker for being so proficient at manipulating people! But damn himself more for wanting to give in! As tempting as it was, he honestly couldn't bear the thought of having William like this. Not when he knew Will would only regret it, and hate him all the more for it. Not when he knew his feelings would remain unreciprocated no matter what physical satisfaction could be gained for either of them. It would solve nothing.

"I'm not going to help you. It's not right to take advantage of him like this," Grell croaked, his voice strangely weak. The flurry of his concern and agitation was diminishing as the terrible weight of sadness began to settle on his heart. The iron grip on his neck and the closeness of William only served to wound him deeper, taunting him with desires of what never could be. Grell knew that if he gave in and William showed him the slightest bit of honest affection, he would be lost to his emotions. He couldn't risk losing control and frightening William off. It would destroy their already fragile relationship. He'd convinced himself that friendship was enough… he'd controlled himself…and here was everything he wanted before him…and he could not have it for fear of losing it all.

"Please stop this," Grell whispered in a painful heartrending tone, the terrible sorrow he carried brought forward by his own words. It was clear that he was not nor wanted to continue playing the game. His plea was entirely too raw and too sincere, it illuminated the depth of his confusion and woe. Realizing just how weak he sounded and how unintentionally truthful he'd been, Grell gathered himself. Neither William nor Undertaker needed to know just how painful this was for him…how much it hurt to know that the man before him did not and could not love him. He drew in a shaky breath, hoping that his heart would stop screaming in pain.

"I can't help," he sighed out, his voice relatively normal, if quiet. "William could never want m-"

The redhead was suddenly cut off again by William's lips crashing into his own. This time there was no escape. When he tried to pull back or move, Undertaker's fingers tightened at the base of his skull, and so he was forced to endure. He cinched his eyes shut, waiting for William to snap out of it and smack him. His heart thudded in his chest as he waited for the inevitable painful rejection, trying not to enjoy the pleasant softness and warmth or the fluttery feeling in his stomach… But William did not stop, nor did he protest…Calloused fingers came to rest on his cheek as the kiss slowly melted into something tender, hesitant, …and it seemed almost…

…almost as if William actually wanted this.

"Yes. He does." Undertaker assured softly into Grell's ear.

William was kissing him. Perhaps even of his own volition. Grell had futilely dreamed of this for so long that he'd ignored the pain of unrequited feelings for decades...It was touching, it was wonderful, and it made his heart ache terribly. Could this possibly be real? Or was this all just a beautiful lie?

"Stop thinking, milady," the mortician chided sweetly, running his free hand soothingly over Grell's shoulders and back.

And the redhead did once he felt the slick warmth of William's tongue caress his lips. He gasped in surprise and desire and that was all William needed. The ebon haired one nearly lunged forward into Grell's lap and kissed him forcefully, not caring in the slightest as he cut his lips and tongue on the redhead's sharp teeth. When the taste of blood washed over his tongue, Grell was gone. He never even noticed when Undertaker let go of his neck, nor when he was divested of his own clothing.

One moment he'd been reveling in the tender kisses he received from William, the next he was kneeling naked with his thighs spread wide atop Undertaker's equally naked lap. His silver haired lover held him gently from behind, exposing his body to the ebon haired one still before him. Both men ran hands and mouths over his sensitive flesh, drawing moans and sighs from him. Teeth lightly grazed his neck from behind and another set of questing lips mapped from his mouth to his chest. He wasn't sure whose hands drew up along his ribs, or whose softly scratched up his thighs, but he really didn't care at the moment. All he knew was that he was between the two men he adored above all else and he was damn well going to enjoy it!

Grell dropped his head back onto the solid shoulder behind him, searching for the impish lips that danced along his neck. He reached behind and grabbed a handful of silver tresses to force a kiss of his lover. Undertaker purred in appreciation. Grell gasped into his mouth as William put his own mouth to use by giving attention to the redhead's nipples.

Black taloned fingers scratched intricate patterns across his chest and sides as his mouth was abandoned, and his neck was harshly nibbled and sucked upon in the wake of said abandonment. Perfectly manicured fingers drew their calloused pads along his sweat slicked back, and exploring lips reluctantly left his chest to wander lower. Separate breaths hotly traced his ear and his lower stomach, both promising dangerous and delicious things.

Quite suddenly, his delicate wrists were taken into one of Undertaker's powerful hands behind his back and a harsh yank on his hair pulled his neck into a nearly painful angle. But this was commonplace with his silver haired lover. They both quite enjoyed a little rough play. What was different this time was the heaven-like wetness and warmth that enveloped his throbbing manhood. He shuddered violently at the sudden sensation and couldn't stop the heartfelt moan of satisfaction he felt.

"Wi-Will…" he groaned wantonly, his voice carrying a tone of pure yearning and fulfillment that touched the hearts of those present. The only response he received was a devilishly pleasant hum from the mouth surrounding him that set his back arching impossibly further.

"I told you." Undertaker purred sweetly into Grell's ear as he released ruby tresses. But the redhead heard nothing as William's ministrations kept him quite distracted. Distantly he felt careful fingers gliding over the small of his back and lower. Undertaker gently nudged him from behind until he raised himself slightly onto his knees, but Will never stopped his lavish attentions. Delicate claws wended their way along his cleft before the slight sensation stopped, and he jumped as his entrance was suddenly prodded by blunt fingers.

"Tut tut, William. Gently, " Undertaker chided over Grell's shoulder. "Our beautiful flower requires a more dewy touch."

Grell shivered as the familiar scent of rose oil washed over him and more experienced, and notably slick, fingers gently massaged his entrance. William's speed picked up and a hum vibrated down his length, sending him moaning. He realized, as there were suddenly two sets of fingers softly exploring his cleft and teasing him mercilessly, Undertaker was instructing William on how to pleasure him…a practical demonstration. That devious sonofa-

His thoughts were interrupted as Will's gentle finger suddenly penetrated him and he was sent panting.

"Wi-Will-Ah! You don't have to-"

"Shhh, milady," Undertaker cooed, tightening his grip on Grell's wrists. "Let him."

Grell's protests fell silent when the invading digit slid into him slickly as William grazed teeth across his twitching erection. Undertaker's chuckle went unheard. As soon as Grell relaxed, William increased his pace, pumping his slender digit aggressively into the now pliant redhead. It wasn't long before he was able to add another two and make the delicate reaper scream for more. He doubled his ministration's on Grell's manhood, adding small nibbles and extra hard swipes of the tongue. He was pleasantly surprised that, while this was a first for him, he enjoyed hearing the sultry noises the redhead made in feeling his restrained thrusts. There was just something undeniably bolstering about causing such pleasure in someone else. He especially liked it when his name fell from those kiss swollen lips so passionately…

"Will…"Grell moaned again with a sense of urgency, his body trembling finely. "I-I-"

William, while inexperienced with others, knew damn well what that meant. Undertaker released Grell's wrists just in time to have the redhead fiercely dig his nails into his thighs hard enough to draw blood. Grell spasmed harshly as he came with a shriek, his whole body trembled as he felt the mortician's claws rend the flesh of his back. The world went white as his nerves sang a crescendo of completion, then the world faded to grey, and finally black. Riding the final tingling waves of the incredibly intense orgasm, he slumped back against Undertaker, happy and wonderfully satisfied.

William suppressed a cough as he swallowed and gave a final swipe of the tongue. He sat back on his heels once more, admiring the view of the redhead draped so provocatively over Undertaker. He watched as the silver haired one took a few moments to softly trace Grell's cheek with a fingertip, draw sweat soaked bangs from emerald eyes, and adjust the pliant body in his lap to a more comfortable position. A look of unbelievable tenderness passed over the madman's face, and it nearly moved William, but it was instantly gone to be replaced by a mischievous leer suddenly directed at him.

Grell was jostled from his sleepy lounge by Undertaker lunging forward, one arm around his waist keeping him close, the other reached forward and grabbed William by the hair. Grell watched in amazement as Undertaker dragged the other reaper in and ravenously plundered William's mouth.

Will grunted in protest and tried to pull back at first, but soon gave in when he remembered from his earlier lessons that resistance was pointless. As Grell watched Undertaker and William kiss over his shoulder, he decided it was the most unexpectedly erotic thing he had ever seen. They seemed to be battling for dominance, both of them growling from time to time, but Grell couldn't decide if either of them really wanted to win. The redhead watched in rapt attention as his paramours twined tongues passionately, pressing him between their strong bodies. and his manhood stirred to life once more. He found himself nibbling his own lip as he watched Undertaker suck William's long ago injured bottom lip between his teeth. He shivered when he heard Will moan and felt the rumble against his own pebbled nipples. Grell's heart pounded wildly, his body demanding attention beyond the erotic display before him. He wriggled impatiently against the erection that pressed against his lower back and Undertaker chuckled in response.

"Now, let us not keep our lady waiting," he whispered with a nibble to William's lip.

Grell was lifted up by the backs of his thighs and turned around to face Undertaker, his legs still lewdly spread to accommodate his lover's lap. The silver haired one gently pulled on his hips until their erections deliciously brushed together, causing them both to hiss. Undertaker very tenderly cupped Grell's cheek and gave him a small smile before kissing him chastely. The kiss quickly degenerated into something more, but Grell didn't fight it. He threw his arms around the man's neck and held him close as they kissed, incredibly grateful for everything so far, and astoundingly lovestruck for both men that held him so warmly. He felt gentle hands grasp his thin waist as a wonderful weight pressed up against his back. Undertaker took both of their erections in hand and smirked knowingly.

"Hold on, darling," he leered. "It's going to be an exciting ride."

William's weight pressed hotly against Grell, his turgid manhood pressing against the small of the redhead's back. Calloused fingers traced Grell's cheek and William turned the scarlet reaper's face to meet him in a gentle kiss. Grell returned the kiss with fervor, lewdly grinding against the ebon haired one's erection. William shuddered in response, surprised and excited at just how pleasurable it all was. Having been denied release all this time, he was unable to withstand the temptation of the beautiful scarlet siren any more. Especially since he kept bucking against Will and moaning so provocatively through their shared kiss. He hastily gathered the bottle of rose oil to coat his throbbing erection, ignoring the chuckle coming from Undertaker. William positioned himself and gingerly pressed forward, breaching Grell's wonderfully hot body. The redhead broke their lingering kiss with a shrill moan and buried his face in Undertaker's neck, digging his nails into the mortician's shoulders for stability. Grell was dizzy with desire and lust, and wonderfully intense emotion consumed him. The scarlet reaper panted and pressed his cheek against Undertaker's, his heart pounding out of control. and as Will filled him completely, he sighed in rapture.

"I love you," he whispered passionately into Undertaker's ear, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. "So _much_."

The mortician leered, locking eyes with William over Grell's shoulder, and gave a harsh squeeze to the slippery erection he held against his own. Grell moaned and shuddered at the friction, his whole body twitching and throbbing. William drew in a deep breath at the reaction and couldn't stop himself from thrusting into the quivering body before him. He allowed himself a satisfied groan. It felt damn good.

Undertaker rocked his hips as he palmed his and Grell's erections, allowing William to find a natural rhythm to follow. The ebon haired reaper pressed in closer to Grell, effectively sandwiching him tightly between the two men, and followed the rhythm Undertaker so graciously provided.

Grell could only pant and sigh desperately as his body was constantly pushed back and forth between the two strong bodies. He had no control over anything, and he adored it! Whenever Undertaker gave a particularly strong roll of the hips that made their erections slide harshly against one another, William immediately complemented it by driving deeply into Grell's body. The heat and the pleasure seemed to overwhelm his senses. Grell didn't know where to grab or who to bite, and it didn't matter! He let his body be guided by these two men and tried to hold onto his sanity. Undertaker growled, William moaned, and Grell could only scream for more.

Thrusting, rubbing, desperation…

William's rhythm suddenly took on a life as it's own, and Undertaker took to only handling Grell's erection with a chuckle. He pounded into Grell viciously, pulling the redhead to him in order to drive himself as deep as possible, but the inevitable was on the horizon. His thrusts became erratic and his fingers dug harshly into the delicate hips before him. Neither men could catch their breath as intensity swept over them. William tried to hold onto the sweet feeling running through his veins, but the pleasure was too much! His spine bowed as he gave in and allowed his climax to take over. Grell screamed in ecstasy as he was filled and sunk his teeth into the arm that was presented to him by his knowing lover. At his lady's vicious bite, Undertaker brought himself to climax with a grimace of satisfaction and pain.

Grell, honestly and completely satisfied for the first time in his existence, let his consciousness drift away as he tiredly slumped onto his silver haired lover with an exhausted: "Thank you…"

William pulled away from the slack body before him to collapse to the side, finally sated himself. He lay for a few moments, enjoying the sensations still running through his body, listening to his companions' still harsh breaths ….letting reality slowly seep in.

He'd just given in to Grell and Undertaker. The haze of catatonic madness Undertaker had placed him in had been broken by Grell's heart wrenching plea. Even in his lust clouded state, he just couldn't bear to see the redhead in so much pain, especially since he knew he had been the cause…so he'd given in. And surprisingly he felt no worse for it. In fact, he felt quite…fulfilled. It had felt rather nice to bring so much happiness to the now slumbering reaper…

"While I have no qualms with having a buttered bun*," Undertaker said softly as he reached towards the nightstand. "I believe our lady has earned her respite."

William distantly watched as the normally spastic madman calmly took an awaiting red washcloth from the wash basin and lightly bathed Grell's sweat slicked body. The redhead lay fast asleep, obviously worn out from their exertions. The mortician lightly ran the wet cloth over the contours of Grell's body, taking special care to ensure cleanliness, but not wake him in the process. William, distracted by the endearing sight of Grell so vulnerable, could feel sleep tugging on his consciousness as well. A cool moisture on his belly brought him back to reality. He looked away from Grell to notice Undertaker held a black washcloth against his abdomen.

"I suggest you clean up and come to bed, dear William. This is, unless you'd like a romp with _me_?"

William's eye twitched in response. At the memory of Undertaker's earlier treatment of him, he fastidiously took to scrubbing his skin.

"I thought as much," Undertaker chuckled, taking a grey washcloth to himself.

Once they were both clean, the mortician lowered the gas lamps and crawled into bed to lay along Grell's side, William stretched out on the other. The ebon haired reaper lay pondering his strangely satisfactory circumstances for a moment before allowing sleep to finally take over.

* * *

Grell awoke to the warm comfortable sound of the heartbeat of his lover. He hummed happily to himself as he nuzzled the chest his cheek rested upon. He blinked sleepy eyes open, expecting to look upon the familiar scarred features of his beloved Undertaker, but his eyes did not wander upon the usual long silver sleep tousled locks. No. There were the piercing green eyes and short cropped ebony hair of an achingly familiar person. William! _Not normal in the least!_

"You're still here?" he blurted out as he immediately shot up.

"Of course I am," William answered matter-of-factly, his eyes narrowed.

"But- I thought- You-" Grell panicked as he tried to read Will's face. If what happened last night was real, then he wasn't going to be happy, and Grell had no intention of staying near an unhappy William T. Spears. "Do you know what happened last night?"

"Of course," the brunette replied coolly. "I was entirely cognizant once I overcame the aftereffects of the chloroform. As such, I have realized that I erred in my assumptions. I feel refreshed and at ease."

Grell could only blink, completely lost by what William was saying.

"What…?"

But he could not finish his question as William suddenly grabbed the back of Grell's head and dragged him down into a forceful kiss.

"The proper first greeting of the day for one you call lover is 'Good morning'," William chastised breaking the kiss, and stared expectantly at the redhead.

"Good…Morning." Grell replied, blinking in surprise.

"Good morning," William answered back. "Now lay back down." But Grell didn't get the opportunity to lay down himself as William forced him to lay on his chest once more. Grell couldn't argue, nor did he want to. He could only smile as he went back to listening to the heartbeat of his longtime love.

"Good morning, Undertaker," the ebon haired one added, speaking to the room.

"Good morning, darling," Grell chimed in.

The only response they received was an unintelligible grumble buried somewhere beneath the blankets.

"He's not a morning person," Grell explained to William's raised eyebrow.

William smirked uncharacteristically. "Oh, really?"

"Well, he normally sleeps in a casket when he doesn't have company."

"I would say I'm surprised, but I would be lying," William dryly said.

"I have yet to design a casket built for two, let alone three," came Undertaker's muffled voice. "Now kindly _shut up_ before I am forced to formally introduce you to my scythe."

Grell snickered and simply made himself more comfortable on William's chest.

William, hardly intimidated, stroked Grell's hair. He didn't need words anyway. He would have to use the elder's aversion to morning against him some time in the future. For now, he was too contented to do much else but let Grell lay on him.

* * *

Because "Our beautiful flower requires a more dewy touch." is infinitely better than "Use the lube before you pork him."

*"having a buttered bun" is Victorian slang for sloppy seconds. Eloquent.


	7. Sticks and Stones

Title: Jeux du Coeur  
Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel  
Pairings: Shinigami sammich  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI, NOR IT'S CHARACTERS, NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY WRITING THIS!

Chapter 7: Sticks and Stones. In which William discovers he is the Duke of Asshattery.

* * *

William had come to the fully logical conclusion that he quite hated the office decorator. In his defense, it was not an unfounded hatred. Really, how was it practical to have a low hanging, _load bearing _chandelier? One that could so conveniently be used to restrain someone's arms above their head given the proper implements? And why did he have the feeling he was not the first to experience this particular utility of the office décor? William sighed in dismay as he recalled the maddening reasons for his present circumstances.

Earlier this afternoon:

William sat staring at the mountain of papers still before him and kept finding his mind would wander to thoughts of a much less professional nature. He was haunted by the sights and sounds of a specific night not too long past that had given him so much and made him want more…

…So much more…it was almost an ache…

He shook his head clear. Disappointed in himself that he would succumb to day dreams, he contemplated the healing powers of headdesk. It had aided him once before…Perhaps…

"William!"

He was interrupted from his present course of action by the familiar voice. He looked up from his paperwork to see the shark toothed smile of Grell (one of his recurring issues) peeking around his office door.

"What is it now, Grell? You have already interrupted me innumerable times today."

"Oh, hush! You like that I pay you so much attention!" Grell smirked with a wink. William could feel a slight flush creep into his cheeks, wanting to refute those words, but he also knew that the redhead was absolutely right. He hurriedly looked down to scribble something important. He was at work, damn it! He was expected to keep his composure, and similar moments never affected him as much before! But that was before he had known what he knew now…before he had finally seen what he'd wanted and needed all along. However, he could never let his personal life (no matter how greatly emotionally altered), affect his performance and professionalism. In fact, it was only his flawless work ethic that kept him from marching straight up to the scarlet reaper and kissing that smirk right off his face…as utterly tempting and satisfying as it would be…

"That aside," William muttered with an uncomfortable shuffle in his seat. "What do you want now?"

"I brought a guest," Grell tittered happily as he stepped around the door, dragging another body in by the wrist.

That someone turned out to be a rather chipper Undertaker. He allowed himself to be pulled in by Grell and stood grinning happily at the redhead's side.

"Why, hello, dear William," the silver haired madman smiled. "And how are we today?"

The ebon haired reaper looked over his glasses at the mortician, his amorous feelings instantly cooled by the source of his current bureaucratic headache.

"I have my hands full with the new assistant* you so graciously provided for me," William growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"He is interesting, no?" Undertaker chuckled.

"No. He's far more trouble than anything he may possibly be worth," William sighed tiredly. "But that isn't the current issue. Why are _you_ here?"

"Our darling Grell-"

"I found him wandering around the library and I thought it'd be nice to show him the offices!" the redhead beamed, obviously excited as he wiggled in place.

"It's not like he's never seen them before Grell. He _is_ one of the bureau's founding members. I'm sure a tour of his old workplace is nothing new or exciting," William said blandly.

"Well, I was giving him a personal tour of _my_ office," Grell leered with a sassy hair flip.

"I quite liked the chaise lounge," Undertaker grinned vapidly. "Though how you're going to explain that stain to the janitorial staff is-"

"Enough! I don't need to hear about your escapades! I have reports to finish. Tell me what it is you want, or kindly leave."

Grell pouted, slightly put out by William's attitude.

"Well, I thought it would be nice to come see you and maybe go home together?"

William yearned to do just that once he saw the pair walk through the door. But because of the rookie _Undertaker_ had thrown on him and because of _Grell's_ constant interruptions, he was so far behind in his work he couldn't possibly go home for hours yet.

"I thought I had made it quite clear that I have work to finish." William said, voicing his displeasure. "Had I not been shouldered with looking after a troublesome new employee or interrupted pointlessly so many times today, it might be a different case. But seeing as so much of my time has been wasted, in a manner much like it is presently, I am stuck here."

"Are you calling me a waste of time?" Grell huffed, half joking.

William saw the two of them standing so cozily together and wanted so badly to just go home for the day. But he couldn't! He _had_ to finish his work, and their annoying interruptions were preventing him from completing his tasks and leaving! But he knew that even though he could not join them, they would still indulge themselves this evening. They could, and likely _would_, thoroughly enjoy each other's company in many ways while he sat in his office writing reports! And though William had not been troubled by these thoughts before, ever since being forcibly pushed into this haphazard relationship, he felt slighted at the prospect of those two being alone together any more. Not that he would ever tell _them_ that.

William looked at Grell coldly.

"At the present, yes."

Grell's eyes widened as his jaw dropped and he blinked rapidly in confusion, his happy mood instantly killed.

"Y-You-" he stammered, the words evading him with William's cold response echoing through his mind.

William went back to work on his papers to avoid the sight of the redhead in shock.

"You-! You _**ASSHOLE**_!" Grell screeched at the top of his lungs as he tore out of the office. Undertaker grinned at William with a solemn shake of his head and followed after.

Once he heard the click of the door signaling that it had shut, William finally indulged in headdesk with a heartfelt thud.

+Meanwhile+

Undertaker quickly caught up to the flustered ginger, calmly guiding him to a sequestered area where no one would come in search of them despite the racket Grell had caused.

"Who does he think he is? I thought things were different now! He was so sweet and- Oh! Damn me for being a hopeful idiot! I should have known better!" Grell spat, shaking in anger as he paced back and forth.

"There is nothing to be damning yourself for, my dear. His wholly unsavory behavior is _not_ a reflection of his feelings for you. You know as well as I do that he does not react well to stress," Undertaker assured.

"That doesn't mean he can be an ass like that! I can't _believe_ he just said that to me!"

"Do not take it to heart," the mortician said softly.

"He must be incredibly stressed to act like that. That was just cruel!" Grell seethed, but quickly became crestfallen as he thought about William's biting behavior.

"But…I…I did distract him quite a bit today…" the redhead said reflectively with a frown. "Maybe it is partly my fault. Maybe I should go apologize."

"In due time. While one may be partially at fault for having caused stress unintentionally, he is entirely at fault for lashing out with the full intent to hurt. You cannot let his behavior go by unpunished. Our dear William must learn that there is as much give as there is take," Undertaker smiled evilly.

Grell sneered. "Oh, I'd like to give him-"

"And you shall, milady," Undertaker cooed as he took up Grell's hand to place a gentle kiss to his wrist. "Come listen to my plan."

+Back to William+

William knew was far from the ideal lover, but he knew well enough that no matter the provocations, one did not EVER say anything so callous to someone they considered a romantic partner!

Why did he have to say that! Yes, Grell was a nuisance, but he did not deserve to be told something so horrible by someone he trusted. A waste of time? Grell couldn't be a waste of time…not in the sense he knew the redhead was thinking. Grell was something quite extraordinary in William's life. Since that awkward, yet blessed, night things just seemed to fit like they should have all along. He was not as short tempered with Grell, and Grell while still admirably fiery, was significantly calmer. He was actually able to relax around the redhead, which was surprising for someone as admittedly tense as William. Grell was something he had never had before…Time with him (outside of work, or course) was something he looked forward to in way he hadn't been able to admit before. He was someone he wanted to spend leisure time with…to share things with…

Damnit. Grell was probably in tears thinking the time they had spent together was something William regretted…

…and Undertaker had predictably followed right behind him. What would the mortician tell him? To end their relationship? To forgive William's terrible behavior? It wasn't that William particularly liked or disliked his former superior. Undertaker just came with Grell…and he was sort of a blessing in disguise. With his trepidations in this new relationship, Undertaker was his guide. He would subtly show William Grell's needs and desires without interfering too much and would consequently show William what he himself truly wanted…not to mention he often found himself in awe of (and very secretly appreciative of) the elder's impressive repertoire of various "skills". But the harsh reality was now he was on his own…The mortician had gone to comfort Grell…

William frowned as he realized he had only worsened his irritation. Before, it was unlikely that he would be able to indulge in his lovers' company tonight, now it was a surety. And he was likely to be void of their company for several weeks. If he was to _ever _be with them again. And he only had himself to blame.

He found the rhythmic action of his forehead continually coming into contact with his desk was therapeutically numbing, It distracted him from imagining the pained expression that was undoubtedly on the redhead's face…of imagining tear streaked cheeks…of missing that shark toothed smile…of missing that undeniable satisfaction he felt when pressed warmly between two bodies…It helped him to overlook the annoying twinge in his chest…

"That might be an advantageous motion were your head in someone's lap," suddenly came Undertaker's all too familiar and dangerous voice from behind him. "But seeing as it is not, assuredly due to your own idiocy, allow me to assist you in your present course of action."

Bony fingers grasped the back of his neck and slammed his head into the mahogany. William saw stars. Disoriented, he could do nothing as he was pulled up out of his chair and forced to stand.

"The belt, darling. Get his belt." Undertaker chuckled. In the blink of an eye, William's belt was smoothly removed, wrapped tightly around his wrists, and his hands were looped over an awaiting arm on the overhead chandelier, forcing him to stand on tiptoe. The speed and precision of the entire thing brought clarity to his addled mind. There had been no opportunity to protest, to fight back, to do _anything_…

And we come to the present where William contemplates his hatred for the office decorator.

His lovers stood particularly close, the twin indulgent smiles on their lips making him feel uncomfortable and very, _very_ wary.

"Now we certainly have you in a predicament, don't we, Mr. Spears?" the mortician smirked, beginning his typical concentric stroll as he spoke, leaving Grell to stand directly in front of William.

Will tensed. Undertaker only addressed him by his last name when the elder was unhappy with him…

"It stands to reason that your current mental state has been influenced by actions we have taken." Undertaker purred, tracing lips over the back of the ebon haired one's neck. Despite his irritation at the situation, William had to consciously try to ignore the warmth spreading through his body even with the trepidation he felt.

"Of course, as decent members of society, we shall have to take responsibility," Grell softly said, pressing in close and running his hands up William's thighs. William instinctvely wanted to press forward, but he dare not show them how they affected him just from simple touches.

"But you must shoulder some of that responsibility as well." the mortician finished, his breath ghosting over William's ear.

"Wh-what?" William shook his throbbing head, attempting to clear it of any distraction.

"Say you're sorry," Grell cooed as he knelt in front of William, slowly tracing the button line down the front of his trousers.

"Say it, William," Undertaker growled against his ear. "And mean it."

William scowled as he fought off the desire to shiver. He looked down only to meet Grell's hopeful eyes and remembered with a shocking chill of guilt that yes, he was remorseful…Grell was never good at hiding his true feelings. Though William knew the look he gave now was meant to be playful and flirtatious, he could see the hurt hidden behind it all. He could see the tenseness and the anger flickering deep within those beautiful emerald depths. He never wanted to be the reason for hurting him again; Not when he knew he was one of the reasons for his happiness. He sighed, embarrassed by his current circumstances and his earlier behavior, but he was entirely willing to concede a well deserved apology if only it would make Grell stop looking at him like that.

"You have my-AGH!" William was interrupted by Undertaker biting into his neck none-too-gently.

"Hmm?" the mortician hummed as he let go and tapped William's lips. "My apologies. You were saying?"

William tore his eyes from Grell's to glare at the silver maned madman, knowing and dreading that he was falling into yet another trap. His head began to pound.

"I am trying to say I'm s- AH!" William's apology was cut off by a particularly hard rub against his groin.

"Oops! Sorry, I was getting a little distracted," Grell cooed, batting his eyelashes and unabashedly palming William's dawning erection through his pants. "Please continue."

William grit his teeth, knowing just where this game was going, dismally aware that he had no conceivable way to get out of it. He knew that if he continued to try and apologize, he would be cut off by some distraction or another…and between the teasing touches and harsh attacks, he knew both were sure to drive him mad and make him lose his composure. So what was he to do? He would just have to grimace and bear it until an opportunity arose…and try to swallow down this monstrous headache while he was at it…

"I'm-" Undertaker roughly grabbed his rear, cutting himself off with a terribly unmanly yelp of surprise.

"I'm sor-" Grell interrupted him by rubbing his cheek against his groin before moving behind him to caress his back.

"Damnit! I can't say it if you keep-" The mortician circled to the front and pressed forward to dig his finger's into Will's jaw and nip earlobe with a dark derisive laugh, cutting him off yet _again_.

There was almost an audible snap, and before he even realized what he was doing, William swung forward and wrapped his legs tightly around Undertaker's waist and used his hips to lift himself up to free his hands from the damn chandelier! He pitched forward, knocking them both to the ground, and pressed his still bound wrist's across the elder's throat to effectively pin him to the floor.

"I said," William panted viciously, pressing down harder to make the man beneath him gasp. "I'm _sorry_."

Undertaker merely lay there, his face a mask of total surprise as he began to turn blue. William's angry gaze cooled and he lifted his wrists to allow the elder to breathe. The mortician's look of shock melted into a tremulous smile and maniacal laughter instantly erupted from his lips.

Unphased and satisfied that his message likely got across, William huffed and stood to leave the useless mass of giggles writhing on the floor. He turned around and walked towards Grell purposefully and pulled the shocked reaper to his feet by his collar. He ignored the scarlet reaper's scared wince and slipped his arms over Grell's head to settle around his thin waist and draw him into a firm, but exceptionally tender kiss.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against Grell's lips, hoping the redhead would be unable to see the blush he knew was dawning on his cheeks.

To be honest, Grell was unsure what the catalyst was for this suddenly more passionate William, but the excitement he felt with his lover's strangely forceful yet gentle attitude greatly outweighed any trepidation he felt. Needless to say, he felt he could forgive Will anything if he could be swept off his feet like this in the end. Grell went with the passion he felt in the air and threw his arms around Will's neck to pull him into a much deeper and far less chaste kiss. William gladly obliged, letting himself be bereft of breath for what he felt was the greater good. But it was Grell who eventually broke the kiss out of need for air and a slight bit of concern. He pulled back and caressed William's face, his fingers gently running over the growing bump on the stoic man's forehead.

"You know, the best cure for headdesk…" the scarlet reaper purred seductively, pressing in tightly.

"…is desksex," the mortician's eerie voice finished Grell's sentence as he pressed in behind William to reach around both bodies and release his wrists from the belt. William hadn't even noticed when he'd stopped laughing…Once the belt fell away, there was a forceful shove from the elder and William found himself firmly pressing Grell's pliant body into the mahogany with Undertaker warmly pressing into him from behind. With the present circumstances, he also found he greatly wanted to know if this theory was true…

Of course, there was only one way to find out.

* * *

Sated and basking in the afterglow of their most recent debauchery, William suddenly turned to Grell and kissed him firmly, but gently.

"My apology was sincere," William whispered softly against Grell's lips. "I don't want you to think-"

Grell interrupted him with a soft kiss of his own. "I know", the redhead said with a warm smile, wrapping his lithe arms around the ebon haired reaper. Undertaker chuckled to himself, watching the display of affection and knew they were finally ready.

* * *

*New recruit= Uchiha Itachi. See "You Gonna Get Reaped" for details.

Yeah, this chapter was going to go much differently than before. I really like this William. Rather than being constantly flustered and overwhelmed, he takes charge. *fans self* Yeah, I REALLY like this William.

After seeing some cute fanart, my husband and I were discussing what the "T" in William T. Spears could stand for, and he blurted out:

William "Two-Sheds" Spears.

It isn't Will's real name, but because he refused to divulge the truth and Grell kept calling him "Two-Sheds", it stuck.…With the assholes he's around all the time, it's possible. Don't get it? Watch the Monty Python sketch "Arthur 'Two-Sheds' Jackson."


	8. Game Over

Title: Jeux du Coeur

Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel

Pairings: Shinigami sammich

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KUROSHITSUJI, NOR IT'S CHARACTERS, NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY WRITING THIS!

Chapter 8: Game Over. In which the game ends.

* * *

Upon my pillow rests a ruby of the finest quality. She has fire like no other, a sparkling clarity unmatched, and her innumerable facets only accentuate the depth of her passionate color. Beside her rests a dark shard of obsidian. In contrast, he is rough in many ways, but he is undoubtedly sharper than the finest blade. From casual observation, he appears mysterious and unfathomable, but he is utterly transparent once you know how to hold him. Though they are so different and should not conceivably compliment one another, I know there are no two gems in the world better matched, for their contrast is their greatest strength. I adore looking upon them in all their splendor together…and yet I also know I cannot do anything useful, save admire them. I do nothing to accentuate their inherent beauty; a grey and weathered stone such as myself does not belong. I found them, yes, but I am not matched to my jewels. I care for them, I have polished them to show others their perfection, and I show them well deserved admiration…but I do not belong. They are precious and I-

I am not.

_Mes beaux bijoux..._

* * *

Considering my plans came to fruition so beautifully, the time was suitable for me to take my leave. And so, I told them that I had to abscond for business… it just so happens that I have not returned nor made contact in over four months. I know they suspect something by now, the clever minds that they are, but I could never regret nor rescind my decision. I am proud to know that my subtle tutelage has rendered them capable of being entirely blissful by themselves. I do watch over them in secret from time to time, and seeing their still new relationship blossom so gloriously is highly satisfying. After all, this was my intention all along. I had never really planned on leaving London, per se, but such a slight inconvenience is worth the smooth progression of their relationship.

I see Grell's ever passionate eyes light up with true happiness whenever I catch the rare sight of he and William sharing an intimate moment. And William, in turn, has become prone to smiling when he is under the impression that no one is watching. I knew they would inevitably grow to be this way, and that is precisely why I had to make their potential relationship a definitive reality. It nearly pained me to see two obviously destined souls avoid one another because of foolish pride or disabling fear. I say nearly because I hardly feel anything beyond curiosity, humor, or pleasure. It is probably safe to say that I do not feel what is defined as the true scope of human emotion any longer. I doubt this would bother me even if I had the notion to be bothered. It is just a product of having existed for so long, and perhaps a sad thought to some, but not for me. Though I am aware that my emotional shortcomings should not affect those two. I know I cannot give the passionate love Grell so deserves, nor can I give the strong patient love William needs. I've long since forgotten how (nor do I really desire to recall), but they obviously have not. Nor should they.

Despite my inability to feel for them as I probably should, I cannot deny that I do feel a sort of longing for them. They were my companions for a few incredibly passionate trysts. And they were exceptionally entertaining. But pleasure and amusement are not reason enough to remain with them; not when they have the ability to create and share something far more meaningful than the comparatively shallow affection I provide. I only intervened in order to bring them together, nothing more, and my task has been completed. I know this to be true…In my observations of them, not once have they mentioned me in a more than politely curious manner, and that is how it should be.

I am drawn out of my thoughts by the sounds of scuffling and raised voices outside. Curious, I go to the window to see if I can find the source of the disturbance and am greeted with the surprising sight of the chief subjects of my thoughts, Grell and William.

I chuckle under my breath knowing that kismet is being her usual mischievous self.

Unfortunately, I cannot make out what they are saying, but it is quite obvious to me that Grell is upset and William is trying his best to calm him…which he effectively does by putting to use one of the many lessons I imparted to him. He firmly grips Grell by the shoulders, shoves him into a wall, and silences his protests by smashing their lips together and smothering him with an intense kiss, to which Grell inevitably succumbs. I smirk at the sight and move from the window in the likely event that they will eventually see me once they decide there is a need for breath. Undoubtedly, they have tracked me down (and not in the best of moods, understandably) and shall soon traipse into my new shop up in arms, but I shall be prepared for their wrath. I cannot let them believe that I may feel guilty for my doings as I do not in the least, but playing ignorant to any distress will be the best course to save us all from a seemingly awkward situation. Still, the sight of them does somehow speed the pace of my heart, but I assume that is in reaction to the conflict I know I am to face…

* * *

"We found you~," came an achingly familiar and melodious voice after the jingle of the shop bell.

Undertaker looked up to see the very sources of his thoughts walk into the room. "Hello," he chuckled with a deceptively casual tone and characteristic grin, acting as if they had only been apart for perhaps a day. "How nice it is to see you."

"And you as well," Grell said wistfully, an honest smile on his lips as he sashayed up to Undertaker in his normal flirtatious fashion. "I've missed you so."

"Our lives have not been the same with your absence," William added with an approving nod as he followed behind the redhead. The scarlet reaper pouted sweetly up at his silver haired lover and then gently lay his head on his chest with a satisfied sigh. Contrary to the elder's expectations, the two reapers seemed pleased to see him. It was odd, but not unwelcome, though it did seem strange for them to be so calm…not that he wanted them to be upset...did he? No, of course not...

"It was rather mean of you to leave without saying a word," Grell pouted cutely, rubbing his cheek on the mortician's chest.

William circled around the pair and placed his hand firmly on Undertaker's shoulder. Caution whispered in the mortician's head, telling him these two should not be so nonchalant, but he ignored the warning for the sake of enjoying the warm beautiful body pressed up against his. Despite his resolution to detach himself, Undertaker had to make a conscious effort not to wrap his arms around the scarlet reaper before him, or reach up to touch the work calloused hand upon his shoulder. He was surprised at the odd sentimental reaction the touch and the very scent of these two caused within him! Had he really missed them that much? He hadn't even thought he was capable…

"Yes, I'd even go so far as to call it rude," William nearly growled from behind him. Too distracted by Grell's flirtatious behavior, and his own slightly baffling thoughts, he was too late to stop himself from being shoved backwards into William's awaiting arms. He was sandwiched between his two paramours and a soft cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth.

"Does this smell like chloroform to you?" William murmured into his captive's ear.

"No," came Undertaker's muffled chuckle through the fabric. He nearly laughed outright at the quaintness and obvious spite in William's move. It wouldn't work on him.

"Good," William said coldly, though the mortician was almost sure he had heard a slight tone of satisfaction at the end of that single word… "Because it's not."

He didn't even have time to raise an eyebrow before there was a crack to the back of his head and intense pain and then…nothing.

William let go of the unconscious body in his arms, causing Undertaker to crumple to the floor in an ungracious heap.

"Was that really necessary?" Grell winced as he looked down at his prone silver haired lover.

"Yes," William replied coldly as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yes it was."

Then suddenly, he reached down and smacked the unconscious mortician across the back of the head once more quite viciously.

"That, however, was entirely unnecessary, yet _deeply_ satisfying."

* * *

Undertaker groggily blinked open his eyes, grateful that he was greeted with soothing dim light.

"I hadn't planned on that," he groaned, pain lancing the back of his head.

"It seems we have a knack of making your plans go awry, don't we?" came a biting hiss from Grell.

"Yes. Yes you do," Undertaker replied coolly taking in his surroundings. From the familiarity of things, he could only assume he was back in his bedchamber in London. Hmm. He was also naked and shackled to his own bed, his two captors standing at the foot of said bed staring down at him rather coldly.

Well, damn.

"Judging from the use of manacles," he hummed in a carefully neutral tone. "I am not going to be allowed to leave until you are satisfied."

"You're not-"

"Of course," William interrupted Grell by slapping a hand over his mouth. "If you would be so kind, we would like an explanation as to why you suddenly disappeared without notice."

Undertaker gave the chains a pull to see if they would perhaps give, but to no avail. Double damn! They had gone and used the reinforced set... Oh well.

"Why should it matter?" Undertaker shrugged slightly. "You two were doing splendidly on your own with only the rarest platonic thought towards my well being."

"How do you know that?" Grell asked quietly.

"I have been monitoring your progress, my dear." Undertaker smirked.

"Progress? What progress?" Grell frothed, only to have William squeeze his shoulder in a silent request for quiet.

"Please clarify," William said crisply.

"Your relationship," the mortician said matter-of-factly.

The two younger shinigami said nothing as they stared at him expectantly, prompting a clearer response with their piercing stares. He sighed resignedly, ignoring the pangs of what seemed to be annoyance that kept prodding at his mind.

"To put it simply, I had grown tired of seeing the two of you run circles around each other as I have been observing this strange little game of yours for decades. I thought it was high time the two of you finally came to terms with your obvious feelings for one another, but of course, neither of you would act on your own, so I interceded to bring you together. You know the rest from there," the elder rambled, uninterested, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes," the redhead shouted, throwing off Will's hand! "We know at least that much, you snide, conniving bas-" Grell was once again interrupted by the ebon haired reaper's hand over his mouth.

"What he means to ask is why did you leave us?" William asked calmly despite the incredibly sharp teeth now sinking into his hand.

"You do not need me any longer. Why should I interfere further?" Undertaker asked simply, lightly tugging on the chains in the vain hope they might magically disintegrate...but...no. As much as some part of him truly enjoyed seeing them, he really did not want to be interrogated. He'd let them go once he had completed what he had planned to do, so what more did they need from him?

"Inter- Interfere? Why do you make it seem like you're not part of this relationship?" Grell shrieked and William gave up in trying to subdue him.

"Because you and William finally have each other," Undertaker sighed, irritation coloring his tone. Now he could see why William could get so aggravated by the redhead so easily. Grell could get under one's skin without even trying, the mortician had just been able to overlook it before in amusement. Now his shrill words seemed to grate on his ears in a very unpleasant and definitively non-amusing manner. As if his role in all this and contributions were unappreciated entirely… As if his sacrifice- No...not sacrifice. He couldn't think of it that way. It was never meant to be his to begin with… "My role as mediator is complete. I needn't be involved any longer."

"You have no right to say that! It isn't your choice! It's mine! It's William's! If I want to love you and be with you it's my decision to feel that way, not yours!"

Undertaker raised an eyebrow at the redhead's outburst. His patience, while normally infinite for his dear Grell, was quickly wearing thin. He needn't explain himself further when he had made his perfectly logical reasoning clear as day, nor did he wish to remain in their presence. It was making him highly uncomfortable, which was something he couldn't entirely explain. In thinking, he realized that the irritation had begun to surface when he had witnessed them happily gnawing each other's faces just outside the shop. That display proved that they clearly cared for one another, as he had intended all along, and they obviously did not need him if they could be so intimate so openly. Why couldn't the dense ginger appreciate that? He was still so young and naïve, he couldn't possibly understand…

"It is not love that you feel for me, child," the mortician uncharacteristically growled, his eyes narrowing in warning.

"Like hell it isn't!" Grell spat, the harshness of his gaze making the elder's seem insignificant.

"If anything, it is misplaced admiration," Undertaker said lowly, his body incredibly tense. He hadn't felt anger in centuries, but he felt it keenly now. He could not just stand by and watch Grell throw away all the effort he had put into building his and William's relationship. Not if the boy was just tenaciously hanging onto something he thought was real. "I gave you comfort while you were in pain. I gave you an outlet for a love you thought would remain unrequited. Nothing more, nothing less. Affection it could be, yes, but love it is not."

Grell scoffed and sneered at his captive.

"You think you know me so well, but you're just as blind as William was! If something doesn't fall into your intricate plans then it can't possibly be true in your eyes. Well, here's the reality for you, you pompous bastard, what I feel for you wasn't born of your devious machinations! I am not that easily manipulated. You coming into my life when you did only nurtured something that was already growing. You think I didn't notice while you stalked me? Or that I was outside your shop the day after Angelina's death because I wanted her damn boots? Do you really think that I didn't know your identity when you're a bloody legend? NO! I put on a show for you as much as I did for William, and even as remarkably stupid as the two of you can be, I miraculously got both of you without having to choose. So don't leave me. Don't leave William. And don't you dare presume to tell me if I love you or not," the redhead hissed viciously.

"I can honestly say that I am not here for Grell's benefit alone," William added smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

"If you are convinced that what you feel is love, then do not waste it on me," the mortician said coldly, glaring at both of his captors.

"It is not a waste," William replied before thinking and immediately blushed. Undertaker saw Grell look at the ebon haired reaper in surprise. William refused to meet either of their gazes, but when he finally did look up to the redhead, Grell rewarded him with a small, sweet smile. Undertaker had to stop himself from scoffing at the blatant display of their bond. This was the exact thing he was trying to bring to their attention. It was so apparent how happy they were! They didn't need him!

"I brought you two together for each other, so be together," Undertaker said sternly. "I should not and will not be a part of it anymore."

"Your intention may have been to bring us together, but your direct involvement in doing so brought our hearts closer to yours," William said, turning cold eyes to the elder. "To demand us to ignore what feelings we may have developed towards you while nurturing what is between Grell and myself is unfair and illogical. Telling us that expressing affection to someone only you approve of is not acceptable."

Grell stepped forward, lightly patting William's shoulder as he looked down on the captive mortician.

"If I didn't know you so well, I would think that you thought us undesirable, or that you hated us. But I know that isn't true. I know you care about us far more than you like to believe and it scares you," the redhead calmly said, a tone of sympathy in his voice. For some reason Grell's composed, assured attitude set the elder off.

"It does not scare me, it just makes things more painfully clear than they should be! I do not enjoy knowing what you and William have for one another is something I cannot understand anymore! I can only, at best, be a hindrance," he snapped! "I do not enjoy feeling your affection for me when I know I cannot return it in kind!"

Grell frowned a little and sighed.

"There is a reason why it bothers you to think that you are unable to love us. Ironically, the root of it is love for us, whether you believe it or not," Grell said softly with a gentle smile. "Love given and received is never the same between two hearts. I don't need my love returned in kind. I just want what you can give."

Undertaker glared at the redhead, making it clear he did not like the situation. Grell smirked and crawled onto the bed, his body hovering over Undertaker's. He ran fingers casually over his captive's thighs, raising goose bumps on sensitive flesh.

"And if you won't give it, then I will simply have to take it."

"Don't." Undertaker sharply said. Grell merely smiled and placed a delicate finger over Undertaker's lips.

"Stop fighting and let us love you as we are meant to."

Undertaker expected another underhanded tactic, but was surprised when Grell merely leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. And though they had shared hundreds of kisses, this one was infinitely different. It felt as though life, that radiant spark he hadn't felt in centuries, was being breathed into him again. He hadn't noticed just how cold and dark his world had gotten without his fiery siren...but his mere presence seemed to brighten and bring warmth to everything. He seemed to make him actually feel the air drawn into his lungs. The taste of Grell made him want to breathe deep and savor the moment...

A softness to his cheek made him draw away from the redhead, but his mouth was merely captured by another pair of lips. William...The man was a stable grounding presence that hardly ever relented. William was a simple and strong force that could and would retain order in the face of chaos. Some part of him never knew it wanted that order and more shocking was how he now realized how dearly he'd missed that stability...

But it didn't matter if he had missed this or not, this wasn't where he was supposed to be! Reminded once more of his resolution, he tore his lips away from the ebon haired reaper. But before he could voice protest, William aggressively grabbed him by the jaw, digging fingers in to keep him in place.

"This is something we all want," he calmly said, holding the elder's gaze without the slightest hint of hesitation. "Do NOT devalue it by denying it. You forced me come to terms with myself, and I will do the same to you. There is one lesson I can never forget which I must now remind you of, and that is to see what is before oneself. You see us before you now, and that is the ultimate truth of the matter. You ran from us, and we followed because you are just as important to us as we are to one another," William finished in a curiously soft tone as he released the elder's jaw to gently brush the ever-present silver bangs from his eyes. "See us for what we are, not what you expect us to be."

Undertaker was taken aback, simultaneously shocked and perhaps a bit touched by William's rare show of tenderness. Grell pressed forward and softly cupped the man's scarred cheek.

"We are stronger than you believe," the redhead said softly, running a thumb over the old wound, as if to soothe the old pain. "We can and want to share our lives with you. Besides, the moment you entered our game, you had already lost to us. We have been at it for decades. So be a good sport and admit defeat."

Grell smiled gently and lowered his lips to Undertaker's and successfully silenced his dissent once and for all.

William moved forward and gently pet and caressed his lovers alternately as he pulled off Grell's clothing and his own. Grell peppered the mortician's face with soft, gentle kisses, and Undertaker was lost in the tenderness. He didn't know who was touching him where, and frankly he no longer cared. He was allowed to give and take as he wanted with no more self imposed fetters upon his heart. He bathed in their caresses and gave them all the emotion that had pooled in his heart ever since being a part of their lives. It was freeing and it was the greatest feeling he had ever experienced.

Overwhelmed by the stunning feeling of completion, he couldn't deny that he somehow felt that this was what he had been made for; To share this experience with these two whom he cared for so dearly. It couldn't be love, this feeling. It was necessity. It was truth. And he finally understood the precarious balance they shared. He knew he was needed as much as he needed them, and it made him feel something akin to what he remembered as contentment. Sated in a way he never imagined he could be, he drifted off to sleep holding one body and being held by another.

* * *

The Next Morning

Undertaker lazily stretched and wrapped arms around the wonderfully familiar curves of Grell, burying his nose in the mane of red and truly savoring the feel of utter bliss that washed over him...But there was a glaring thing missing-

"Out of bed," came William's crisp commanding voice. "Now."

There was a sudden hard and vicious yank to his hair as he was pulled from his euphoric happiness and onto the cold hard floor.

"Please do get dressed, sir."

"William..." Undertaker growled, still not quite awake and fighting the ire he usually felt first thing in the morning.

"Because your absence caused such emotional distress on Grell, and therefore upon myself, important duties were neglected in our pursuit of you," William nonchalantly stated, seemingly unaffected by Undertaker's growing foul mood and went about laying out clean clothing for him. "Logically, it stands to reason that an experienced veteran such as yourself would be an ideal candidate for assisting us in catching up on said duties."

"William..." the mortician growled again.

"That being said, I took the liberty of submitting your Reinstatement forms," William said, an obvious note of happiness in his normally monotone voice.

Undertaker blinked as he tried to process William's words.

"Welcome back, sir," the ebon haired reaper grinned smugly with a small salute.

Undertaker's jaw dropped as he stared aghast at the sly reaper.

"Did you really think last night was enough to earn my forgiveness? I think not, sir. I should quite like to see you suffer a bit more." William smirked a little evilly. "I will work you to the bone, in many many ways."

"How could you even-?"

"It was all perfectly legal, I assure you," William grinned viciously in a very un-William-like way. "It is not unusual for one's spouse to authorize such paperwork." William's uncharacteristic grin grew wider as he held his left hand up and pointed to two thin bands of silver and gold about his left ring finger. "It was all Grell's idea, but there are benefits to such commitment, don't you think?"

"Don't be angry, darling!" Grell cooed from the bed. "We just wanted to keep you from leaving again. Now you're bound to us forever."

Undertaker simply had no words, and so, he laughed. He laughed harder and longer than he had in a very long time and pulled his new husbands to the floor with him to revel in their happiness, very glad that he had lost this particular game of the heart.

_**END**_

* * *

Mes beaux bijoux= "my beautiful jewels". UT speaks a little French. Why? Because I have a convoluted theory (other than the fact that he's a worldly guy) that his distaste for monarchs stemmed from a certain noble who was likely his own queen *cough*MarieAntoinette*cough*. Who wouldn't want to reap their own queen? Hullo! the title of the story Jeux du Coeur means "Games of the Heart"

Also, if you're wondering when they got married, Will and Grell already got married, but UT couldn't see the bands since Grell and Will normally wear gloves...and he wasn't exactly paying attention to their hands during boom boom sexy time. But, they dragged UT off when he was still unconscious to some seedy priest who didn't care how many were getting married or if one party wasn't entirely cognizant! 3 Can't you just see William holding UT up and "speaking" for him? XD Ah, love~!

Yeah. I've been meaning to get this done and posted for a long time, but I kept getting stuck trying to write mannsecks. Apparently, it just wasn't meant to happen. =_=


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